The Plan
by Shrikestorm
Summary: What is going on at the Death Eaters' Meeting, my friends. And what tricks has Bella got up her sleeves this time? Does contain sexual suggestions, not for children or the easily offended.


"Right, settle down everyone. We need a plan." Voldemort surveyed his crowd of Death Eaters. They were an odd bunch, he decided – some fat, some thin, some human, some…something, some old, some still in school. Still in school?! Didn't the Malfoys even _care_ about Draco's education? Voldemort always waited until the end of the school term to attack Hogwarts – there was nothing more important than learning in his opinion. Shame on Lucius.

"What kind of plan, my lord?" asked Bellatrix. She always had a thing for Voldemort, she was a bit like those fangirls who were obsessed by Loki and Ka'an, except that they had an excuse – they were sexy… Voldemort didn't even have a nose.

"It is the kind of plan, my dear Bellatrix, which allows me to take over the world."

"Oh" pouted the witch, a little put out. Then she looked at him slyly, "are you sure you wouldn't rather just take over me? It would be so easy for you…just get out your wand and –"

"Yes, thank you Bellatrix, no doubt when you have come up with a half-decent idea, the Dark Lord will listen to you, but until then please keep your trap shut." Snape had a rough night, unshaven and unwashed he had just come back from Hogwarts after marking a bunch of first years' homework…damn Hufflepuffs.

"Well, actually…" Voldemort coughed, colour rose in his snake-like cheeks, "I though Bella's idea was rather a good one. Perhaps you can see me when the meeting is over, Miss Lestrange." The pale witch gave a mini fist pump and couldn't wipe the grin off her face for the rest of the evening.

"Honestly, I can't _believe_ you just said that" complained Snape, "she is way below your station and would you look at the state of her hair, I mean we may not have electricity but we do have basic toiletries and –"

Voldemort cut him off, "Oh shut up Severus, just because you are all alone. I didn't mean to kill your girlfriend. Oh wait, yes I did. And hang on, she wasn't even your girlfriend, she was married to your enemy. Rough luck Snapey, now sit down before I decide to torture you." Snape sat down reluctantly, muttering to himself. "_As_ I was saying," continued the Dark Lord, "we need a plan to take over the world. Except that nice doughnut shop down the road, I like the management style there, it can stay." A murmur of consent came up from the group. The maple drizzle doughnut with the caramel filling was exquisite.

"Perhaps, my Lord, we could capture Hogwarts?" ventured Lucius. He was rather frightened of the snake-like man before him, and really, really, really didn't want to be turned into a frog and fed to Nagini like poor Camille Hornsnapper, who only suggested that they wear pink on Wednesdays. Just to mix things up a bit.

"Oh my G.O.D. Lucius! How many times do I have to tell you? We are _not_ taking Hogwarts!" Lucius began to apologise, but Voldemort continued relentlessly, "What is it with you and that place, were you bullied like Snapey, were you rejected by some girl there? Did you have a crush on your teacher? You did, didn't you? It was Minerva. Don't deny it, it was. I know."

"It…it wasn't just me. Crabbe here thought she was hot stuff as well," now it was Lucius' turn to go red.

"Oi! Leave me out of this, we all know you're not supposed to know anything about me and I'm just here to look menacing, yet easily outwitted" said Crabbe, who had risen to his feet, knocking over a very expensive Bordeaux in the process.

Voldemort gave Crabbe curious glance, "Wow, you're really quite deep, aren't you?" The big man grunted and sat down again. He wasn't all that deep.

"I've got an idea, Mr. Moldemort," a voice in the corner said.

"It is _Vol_demort, Neville Longbottom, _Vol_demort." The Dark Lord turned to look at the boy in the corner. He was once a small and rather round year seven, but now that he was 18, all the female witches, human and otherwise couldn't stop staring at him – except Bellatrix, of course. Seeing as he was so popular with Voldemort's womanly entourage, he forgave his mistake. Much like Diggory (who died to become a sparkly vampire), Neville was utterly gorgeous but couldn't string a sentence together at times…

"Sorry, umm Mol - _Vol_demort, I have a plan"

"Yes, what is it?"

"Well," Neville hesitated, he had never come up with a good plan in his life, in fact his only other plan ended up with Hermione Granger using _pertrificus totalus_ on him in year seven. Neville cleared his throat and continued, "My plan was to gather all of your horcruxes and hide – "

"Woah, stop right there, laddie, how do you know about my super-dooper-top-secret-horcruxes?" Voldemort butted in.

"Everyone does, there like, really ummm…obvious" said Neville, fearfully, waiting for the wrath of He Who Must Not Be Named. Nothing happened.

"Oh" said Voldemort, "Bugger me."

"If that's what you like baby, I'm ok with that"

"Bellatrix!" yelled the rest of the room.

"I'm just saying" muttered the witch.

Voldemort stood up and walked around the long black table. Under his long black robes he wore a pair of fluffy bunny slippers, because his feet were getting terribly cold wandering around barefoot. Thrice he went around, muttering to himself. Then he stopped back at his chair and sat down, bringing his hands to a steeple and continued.

"Yes, perhaps they are in rather obvious places. So, Master Longbottom, carry on with your plan."

"Well, sir, you gather up all the horcruxes and hide them in the Malfoy's washing basket. Then you"

"Excuse me, but why my washing basket?" said Narcissa, whose personality could be described as something very close to her name.

"Because its huge! You don't do a thing yourself, and it's not like you can give them to your house-elves" said Neville, exasperated and rather tired of explaining all the boring little niggles.

"He has a point, Mummy" said Draco.

"And that's it" concluded Neville.

Voldemort looked at him incredulously, "That's it?"

"Yes, of course, my Lord, sweet and simple." Neville straight at Voldemort and smiled his most charming smile. Many of the ladies, and Goyle Sn, got a bit weak at the knees.

"That is bloody brilliant!" said Voldemort, beaming back at his newest recruit, "I knew you were a bad one, I like you. Welcome to the team. Death Eaters?"

They all stood to attention, "Yes, my Lord?"

"Get those horcruxes, and be home in time for seven and I'll make you the best roast you've ever seen."

They all began to hurry out of the room – Voldemort was without question a genius in the kitchen.

"Oh, not you Bellatrix, you're staying with me."

The surly witch gave another mini fist pump.


End file.
